


Festive

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BDSM, Bondage, Bottom Dean Winchester, Brat Dean Winchester, Christmas Smut, Coming Untouched, Dom Arthur Ketch, Dom/sub, Holidays, M/M, Mary/Ketch never happened, Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Panties-Wearing Dean Winchester, Panty Kink, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, SPN Rare Pair Christmas Gift Exchange 2018, Season/Series 12, Smut, Spanking, Sub Dean Winchester, Team Dean's Red Ass, Top Arthur Ketch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 17:09:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17125376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: When they got to the dungeon and Ketch stopped and opened the door, Dean gave him a confused look. Ketch's expression was enough to make the hunter scramble in as he was apparently supposed to.When they were both standing in the middle of the mostly empty room, the door closed so that no one could hear you scream, Ketch faced Dean and asked “Were you a good boy, Dean?”Dean looked away, eyeing the chains on the wall warily.“I said,” Ketch said as he grabbed Dean by the chin and roughly moved his head back to face him, “were you a good boy, Dean?”“Yes, sir,” Dean replied obediently now.Ketch smiled. “Now that's what I like to hear from you,” he said as he let go of Dean's chin. Then his mouth was crashing into Dean's, charged with more heat than his stuffy British exterior seemed capable of holding.





	Festive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Andromytta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andromytta/gifts).



> Normally, I have a bunch of stuff to say here, jokes to make and whatnot, but for the life of me, I can't think of anything. So I'll let the pure, unadulterated porn speak for itself. Merry Christmas/happy holidays to you all (especially to Andromytta, since this was your secret Santa present, hope you like it).

Dean had to suppress yet another yawn as Ketch kept rattling on and on about their newest ‘homework assignment’ from those annoying bastards at the British Men of Letters. Sam had seemed pretty into the idea of teaming up with them, but if this was how it was always going to be, a twenty hour history lesson before a damn cakewalk vampire hunt, then he was seriously thinking of throwing in the towel and letting Sammy fend for himself in British boredom land.

Dean fidgeted in his chair, his underwear reminding him of just how long he'd been sitting in the same spot. There was no way Ketch could go on much longer, right?

Wrooooooong. Going into yet more details that Dean couldn't care less about, Ketch continued with no signs of stopping. The hunter was so desperate for the lecture to be over that he started to count all the scars in the wood on the table.

Thirty-two that he could see. So much for that.

Then Dean started to pretend that whatever boring shit that Ketch was saying was replaced by the ‘mwop mwop mwop’ noises that the adults always made in the Charlie Brown cartoons. But unfortunately with that idea, he had to hold in a laugh because it fit so damn perfect. Especially since he'd managed to give it a posh British accent in his head. Something must have slipped out, though, because Ketch stopped talking for a moment to glare at him, and he could see Sam roll his eyes subtly. Dean just smirked in return, at this point willing to get a timeout in the corner or whatever if it meant Ketch would stop talking already.

Ketch let out a huffy breath, but Dean's prayers were answered when he finished up what he'd been droning on about only five minutes later. “Now we'll all be properly prepared when we head to the nest site in the morning,” Ketch said with one of his smug grins. Dean just rolled his eyes in response. That had gone on forever, he deserved a little pouting.

“I'm gonna go hit the sack, then,” Sam said, right before letting out a yawn.

“Good evening,” Ketch said politely. Sam nodded and left the room. “And if I could have a word with you, Dean?” He said when they were alone. His demeanor changed abruptly, to one that made it clear that he wouldn't _appreciate_ Dean refusing his request.

“Got a few words for you,” Dean grumbled, but he followed Ketch as he left the library anyway. When they got to the dungeon and Ketch stopped and opened the door, Dean gave him a confused look. Ketch's expression was enough to make the hunter scramble in as he was apparently supposed to.

When they were both standing in the middle of the mostly empty room, the door closed so that no one could hear you scream, Ketch faced Dean and asked “Were you a good boy, Dean?”

Dean looked away, eyeing the chains on the wall warily.

“I said,” Ketch said as he grabbed Dean by the chin and roughly moved his head back to face him, “were you a good boy, Dean?”

“Yes, sir,” Dean replied obediently now.

Ketch smiled. “Now that's what I like to hear from you,” he said as he let go of Dean's chin. Then his mouth was crashing into Dean's, charged with more heat than his stuffy British exterior seemed capable of holding.

Dean let out a muffled moan as he started to kiss back. The muffled moans got louder when Ketch simultaneously started using his teeth and reached his arm around to grab Dean's ass.

When they pulled apart, Ketch looked smug and completely unruffled, while Dean looked halfway to fucked already. Nobody could fucking kiss like Ketch, and that was just the tip of the iceberg. While Dean was still a bit dazed, Ketch cupped the hunter's partially hard dick through his jeans. “Sometimes you make it too easy, Winchester.”

“You know damn well that teeth thing gets me every time,” Dean sassed back. Ketch chuckled and Dean got just a little bit harder.

“Why do you think I do it every time?” Ketch teased back. He lost that playfulness when he looked down at Dean's slightly uncomfortable jeans. “Lose the pants,” he demanded, and Dean didn't waste any time following that order.

The hunter could tell exactly when Ketch saw his little Christmas present of a sort. “How very… festive, Dean,” Ketch drawled out, taking in the skimpy green panties with red lace and tiny white bows.

The panties only covered about half of each cheek, so when Ketch smacked his ass Dean felt every bit of it. He let out a yelp of surprise that quickly turned into yet another moan, because Ketch had perfect aim. “Definitely one of my better presents,” Ketch said as he lightly pulled at the elastic waistband.

“Only one of?” Dean asked, feeling somewhat insulted. He'd had to go through a lot of websites to find this exact pair in his size.

“It's only the wrapping of my best gift, Winchester,” Ketch whispered into Dean's ear, nipping him lightly on the lobe before pulling away, making Dean shiver in anticipation. “Now off with all those hideous shirts you insist on wearing.”

Dean opened his mouth to hurl an insult back, when Ketch grabbed his ass again, in just the right way. The insult immediately morphed into a garbled cry of “oh god, yes.” His shirts were off in the blink of an eye after that reminder.

Ketch ran his hand over Dean's chest as he took him in, naked except for the holiday panties that were long past containing his erection. It had taken a while to learn the Brit's expressions, but Dean could now easily tell that Ketch was impressed. The guy had a thing for all his hunting scars, and he let out a whimper as Ketch's manicured fingers slid over scar tissue and ended on his nipple. “So perfect,” Ketch muttered softly, and Dean wasn't sure if he'd been supposed to hear that or not.

Dean tried his hardest to stand still as Ketch slowly lowered the panties. That bastard always did this, working Dean up into a mess before they even got properly started. And fuck, was that hot.

Dean stepped out of the panties as Ketch guided, then turned as he was led. Ketch moved the plug ever so slightly, without removing it, and Dean groaned in sexual frustration. “Always so considerate for me,” Ketch said as he tugged lightly at the plug. “

“Oh my god, just fuck me already,” Dean growled when his patience finally snapped.

“Impatient, Winchester?” Ketch said with another husky chuckle.

“Fuck you,” Dean responded.

“Just for that,” Ketch said, moving away from Dean, “you can come on my cock and my cock only. No touching.”

Dean turned around quickly at the sound of clanking metal. “Fuck,” he whispered as he saw Ketch opening the manacles. No wonder they were in the dungeon. Ketch had probably planned this whole thing, playing him to respond with the right script. The sound proofing was really going to be put to the test tonight, because Dean was expecting to be screaming in pleasure very soon.

“Such a good boy,” Ketch reassured him as he locked Dean's wrists in the cuffs, putting the key in his breast pocket. He backed up again, and Dean could hear the sound of a belt being undone and a zipper pulling down. “Now, hands against the wall.”

Dean complied, and had to stop from falling at the beautiful feel of Ketch pulling out the butt plug. There was a moment of emptiness, but only a moment as Ketch shoved in sharply. The man never eased in, always preferring the roughness of the act, and Dean couldn't agree with him more. “I love it when you prep for me, Winchester,” Ketch hissed in his ear, his body completely still now. “Lets me fuck you right away.” He pulled back and shoved in again, his dick hitting Dean's prostate in a way that made the hunter's IQ dribble out of his ears.

“You like it rough, don't you Dean?” Ketch asked, knowing the answer already, as he grabbed the hunter's hips in a death grip and started a pounding pace that most guys couldn't handle without breaking. There was nothing Dean loved more.

“Yes, sir!” Dean shouted out as Ketch hit that perfect spot once again. “Fuck yes!”

Leaving bruises on Dean's hips and making sure his ass would be sore for at least a day or two, Ketch took one of Dean's ears in his mouth, biting it with exactly the right pressure. Dean let out a scream of ecstasy in response, and knew that coming untouched wasn't going to be a problem at all. Ketch was pulling out all the stops, and even though they'd only been going at it for a few minutes, he could already feel his orgasm starting to build.

“Bloody hell, Winchester,” Ketch panted out, sounding as wrecked as Dean felt.

“Close,” Dean muttered in between the incoherent babble of the properly fucked.

Ketch growled, sounding feral and possessive and like sin wrapped in chocolate. Then Dean's undoing came in the form of another well aimed smack to his ass. Dean shouted as he came, spilling himself all over the wall and his legs. “God, Ketch!” He screamed, having one of the best fucking orgasms of his life.

“Say it again,” Ketch commanded, using every ounce of authority he could muster from the sound of it.

“Say what?” Dean slurred, his spectacular orgasm finally coming to an end.

“My name,” Ketch yelled, his pace getting erratic as he got closer and closer himself. “Scream my name like I own you, Winchester!”

“Ketch, god, yes!” Dean screamed as his over-sensitized hole wept for even more than it could take. One final thrust and Dean could feel Ketch's orgasm, which felt as powerful as his own.

Ketch slumped against Dean, the buttons of his fancy suit coat digging into Dean's back in a way that felt like the beginnings of a fetish. They were both too wrung out to do anything but breathe, and they stayed like that for endless minutes. Dean only interrupted the postcoital slump session when his arms started to get tired.

“Hey, can you do something about these chains?” Dean asked the man attached to his back.

“I like you chained up,” Ketch said lazily.

“Yeah, we're definitely doing this one again, but my arms are getting sore,” Dean reminded him.

“Oh, all right. If you insist,” Ketch grumbled as he pulled away enough to get the key and unlock the cuffs. Without the restraints, Dean slid to the floor as Ketch stood back up and brushed imaginary lint off of his newly ruined suit. He tucked himself back in, and would've looked innocent if it weren't for the splashes of come on the upper part of his pants.

“Fuck,” Dean said slowly, feeling like he could sleep for a year. “That was…” he trailed off, not sure how to describe it.

“Amazing,” Ketch supplied, and Dean nodded. “I believe we have a new standard to beat.”

“I'm not sure I could survive that,” Dean said as he pulled himself back up. Ketch chuckled and Dean maturely stuck out his tongue.

As Dean started to gather up his clothing so he could get dressed before slipping stealthily to his bedroom, Ketch held up the holiday panties. “I think I'll be keeping these,” he announced, a smirk on his face.

“Dude, those were expensive,” Dean said, snatching at the underwear in question.

“I'll have a dozen more shipped to you within a week, then,” Ketch replied smugly as he put them in his pants pocket.

“With Men of Letters funds?” Dean asked, already smiling at the thought of not having to buy his own panties.

“Of course,” Ketch said with a scoff.

“Think they'd be pissed?”

“I honestly don't care,” Ketch said. “Besides, I wasn't planning on getting caught.”

“Of course not,” Dean said sarcastically. Ketch cut him off from saying anything else by kissing him in a way that put their earlier lip-lock to shame.

“Now off to bed with you, like a good boy,” Ketch said, back to being playful and teasing.

“Fuck you,” Dean retorted, earning the reward of Ketch's laughter. Damn, was it addictive. Just like the man it belonged to.

“Until next time,” Ketch said softly before opening the dungeon door.

“And next time, don't make your lecture so fucking boring. You almost killed me,” Dean grumbled. Thankfully Sam was nowhere to be seen, because Ketch's only response to the insult was one final smack to Dean's ass.


End file.
